


CC ≥ MSC

by soybean_88



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - MAMA (Music Video), M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 14:10:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10641489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soybean_88/pseuds/soybean_88
Summary: When Jongin happens to take one particular book from one particular shelf in the library, he is very surprised to see human eyes staring back at him from the other side. Except the eyes are not of a human, but of a maniac who claims to be telekinetic.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published at LJ for the **Kaifectionery Fic Fest**.
> 
> Thank you to the prompter for this wonderful scenario - it re-awakened my NC-17 writing brain

On an overcast, humid Wednesday in the middle of June, a sleepy Jongin meandered up the steps of the university library in search of a cool, quiet place to study. He took one last gulp of the weak green tea from his drink bottle before leaving it among the hundreds of others that were spread, like multi-coloured confetti, on either side of the of the main entrance.  
  
Stepping over the threshold and into the climate controlled building (one of the _very_ few on campus) Jongin then let his instincts take over. His sandalled feet made almost no noise as he headed towards the stairs on the right, then down one, two flights of stairs. With both hands he pushed open a heavy wooden door, slipping into the room and leaving the door to close on its own with a soft, final thud.  
  
“I missed you,” he whispered to the shelves.  
  
Classical Chinese Studies had its own wing of the library, but few students ever spent more than a minute or two down there – there were no desks or chairs, and the phone reception was patchy on a good day. For most, it was just a place to get the books you needed and get out. But to Jongin, who had come to China specifically to do research for his thesis (tentatively titled _Poetry and Poetical Songs in Classical Chinese by Speakers of Non-Chinese Languages: A Korean Case Study_ ) it was a place he could spend hours in quiet repose, stretched out on the royal blue carpet, scribbling notes in a mix of hangeul and hanja on lightly gridded paper.  
  
Jongin set down his bag in the usual place against the wall, took out a long bibliography, and began to search for the relevant titles.  
  
“This row... no, next row. 851.0...851.05...” Jongin checked the number on his paper against the number on the book in front of him. Good. Found.  
  
“When the skies and the ground were one the legen...”  
  
“AAAAAHHHHH!”  
  
Jongin scrambled backwards, away from the shelf where two glittering eyes were fixed on him through the space left by the book. The back of his head hit the steel shelves behind him, and he fell to his knees in pain. Jongin curled forward, pushing the palms of this hands firmly against the lump that was already beginning to form. When he could focus again, two small feet in white tennis shoes appeared in his immediate line of sight.  
  
“I'm so sorry! Did I scare you?”  
  
Jongin looked up to see the same glittering eyes, but now they sat appropriately as part of a complete face, and indeed a whole body, dressed all in white. The boy had dyed white-blonde hair, and one piercing in his left ear that sparkled as it caught the light. He seemed familiar, but no name came to mind.  
  
“I'm sorry,” the boy said again. “Are you okay? Here, you dropped this.”  
  
Jongin mumbled something resembling “thank you” as he took the book with one hand, the other still firmly pressed to the back of his head. The boy kneeled down so he sat at eye-level with Jongin, fixing him with an intense, possessed stare.  
  
“When the skies and the ground were one the legend, through their twelve forces nurtured the tree of life.”  
  
“Huh?”  
  
“I'm one of those twelve forces. I have the power of niànlì.”  
  
Jongin thought his Mandarin had been improving, what with living in China for the last six months, but although he could recognise a few of the nouns, _nothing_ about what this boy said made any sense.  
  
“I'm sorry. I don't think I can help you. Excu...”  
  
“But, I can see your _aura_!” The boy looked like he wanted to reach out and shake Jongin, but, thankfully, he instead just gathered the hem of his knee-length shorts in his fist until his knuckles turned white. Jongin desperately wanted to disappear back to his little nest in the corner of the library, but the expression on the boy's face was so wrought with anxiety that he figured he'd have to play along in order to get him to leave. Jongin gave the bump on the back of his head one final rub.  
  
“I'm sorry, you're speaking a bit fast for me. I'm just on exchange... Oh,” Jongin suddenly matched a location to the face. “You're in my class. International Relations in the Qing Dynasty.” Most of Jongin's classes had a minimum of fifty students, but in amongst a sea of black and brown hair, this boy had stood out like a sore thumb.  
  
“Yes! Right. My name's Luhan. Nice to meet you.” Luhan seemed to brighten up immediately, and though Jongin couldn't truthfully say, “Nice to meet you, too,” he raised the corners of his mouth in an imitation of a smile, took the hand Luhan offered, and got to his feet.  
  
“Thanks. Now, you said something about the sky and the ground?”  
  
“Yes, I've been having these dreams for _ages_ now where I hear this voice describing the history of the universe, and then one day in class _you_ started to have this kind of light-aura around you. From then on I could sense you, wherever you were, and it was totally weird, but cool too! And then when I finally got the courage to talk to you about it, you didn't come to class, and I tried to sense your aura but you definitely weren't on campus. Where did you go?”  
  
The throbbing pain from the bump on his head was joined by a throbbing pain at his temples.  
  
“Where did I go? I went home to Korea for a few days. I came back yesterday.”  
  
“Oh, okay. Well, you're here now. I have niànlì, but it doesn't always work. I'm not sure why. What power do you have?”  
  
Jongin's patience had almost run out. He was always polite to his fellow students, but this situation was getting to be beyond ridiculous. He'd taken the weekend and two days off school to go home, and now he had work to catch up on and classes to attend that afternoon. He didn't have time for this.  
  
“Luhan, I have to...”  
  
“You believe me, right?” Luhan looked up, his dark eyes shining with unshed tears. One blink and they would fall. If Jongin answered in the negative, Luhan would surely crumble and he – quiet, unobtrusive and unassuming Kim Jongin – would have made someone cry.  
  
“Sure, I believe you. But for now I really have to study. Let's meet later.”  
  
“After the Qing Dynasty class on Friday?”  
  
“Err, okay.”  
  
“Great!” Luhan looked as happy as if he'd just been gifted a Lamborghini. “Hopefully by then I can figure out these powers. See you Friday!” And with that, he turned tail, skipped to the end of the row then disappeared out of sight.  
  
Jongin fell to the floor, again. It was like a typhoon had come and crashed through his world (and his library) and now he was left to pick up and reassemble the pieces. Before he dismissed everything Luhan said as the rantings of a crazed student, there was one word that might explain everything. Maybe Luhan was simply an enthusiastic environmentalist and was talking about the power to save the earth?  
  
Jongin took out his phone and loaded his Chinese dictionary application.  
  
'Niànlì'  
  
'Telekinesis'  
  
_I have the power of telekinesis_  
  
Apparently Luhan was not an environmentalist.  
  
  
  
After the incident in the library, Jongin resolved to focus solely on his classes and his assignments. On Thursday he received the results of a recent Mandarin test, and his score was lower than he'd expected. He could plainly see where he was going wrong – in question five he tried to use Classical Chinese words instead of modern ones, and in question seven he used grammar forms from poetry that (he now realised) were unnatural in vernacular Chinese. But how to improve his grades? It seemed like he would need to find a conversation partner, but his ego wasn't too happy about that prospect.  
  
On Friday, Jongin sat through his regular morning classes, ate his lunch outside while appreciating the rare presence of blue sky, then trudged off to the lecture on the Qing Dynasty. He hoped Luhan had caught a cold and was staying in bed for the day. And that the cold turned out to be a rare disease. And that Luhan would have to be airlifted to hospital. And that he'd only come back to university after the hospital had kept him in quarantine for six months - by which time Jongin would have left China.  
  
“Hi, Jongin!” Luhan spotted him immediately, waving with one arm and cradling a box of popcorn in the other. The students already in their seats looked up, and Jongin wished that he could just melt into the floor. Luhan sidled over until he was standing in front of Jongin's desk.  
  
“Hi, Luhan” Jongin replied, glancing at the popcorn, the other students filing into the room, the blackboard, _anything_ except Luhan's wide smile and almost unnaturally straight teeth.  
  
“Oh, do you want some?” Luhan offered kindly as he held the box out for Jongin.  
  
“No, I'm fine, thanks.”  
  
“Go on, it's really good. _Too much congee, not enough monks_.” In spite of all their unorthodox conversations so far, Luhan's adaption of an old Chinese proverb made Jongin smile. He respectfully took a handful of popcorn that was coated in a suspicious white powder, and demurely ate one piece. The white powder turned out to be icing sugar – the popcorn really _was_ good. Then Luhan leaned forward.  
  
“See you after class,” he whispered conspiratorially.  
  
  
  
At the end of the lesson the majority of students quickly hurried out, excited to start their weekend. Jongin, however, took his time in gathering his pens and papers and arranging them neatly in his backpack. He stood up ready to leave, thinking Luhan was probably waiting in the corridor.  
  
“Are you rea...”  
  
“AAAAAHHHHH!” Jongin knocked his bag to the floor in surprise, all his carefully organised items scattering under the surrounding chairs and desks.  
  
“Sorry! Sorry!” Luhan apologised as he helped to pick up the papers on the ground. “Oh, you're taking Intermediate Mandarin?” Jongin tried to reach forward and take the test paper back, but Luhan had already stood up and turned away, holding the exam up to read in the afternoon light.  
  
“Awww, your handwriting is so cute! But, wow. What is this character?”  
  
Jongin had put everything back in his bag save for the booklet Luhan was holding. He straightened up and peered over Luhan's shoulder.  
  
“That's 'lo'. I was trying to use it to add emphasis to the following noun, but apparently it's wrong.” Luhan brought the booklet closer to his nose, and Jongin could almost see the wheels turning in his head.  
  
“Well, I guess it's not wrong if you are, like, eighty-years-old and writing a love poem.” Luhan observed. He gave Jongin back the test. “So, can we talk about my dreams and your aura now?”  
  
Luhan had seated himself on a desk in the row behind, leaning back on both hands with one foot up next to his hips. Jongin's gaze flicked between Luhan's eyes and his groin, making another part of him twitch involuntarily. Jongin tried to concentrate.  
  
“Luhan, I have been thinking about what you said.” At this, the blonde boy leaned forward eagerly, hugging the leg that was on the desk. “And I'm wondering if it's just the stress of exams?”  
  
A murderous expression fell over Luhan's fine features.  
  
“Maybe,” Jongin said, a little more slowly, “Maybe you haven't been sleeping well and so you _think_ you have telekinesis, but it's just...”  
  
“I HAVE TELEKINESIS! AND YOU HAVE POWERS, TOO! I KNOW YOU DO!”  
  
Luhan screamed loud enough for the whole building to hear, and Jongin rushed forward to put a hand over Luhan's mouth. Luhan seemed to have all the social skills of a kindergartner. No one would believe him if he just kept insisting that he had special powers, and Jongin certainly didn't want to be associated with anyone who behaved in such a maniacal fashion. If he just could perhaps make Luhan see the impossibility of what he was claiming, maybe he would calm down.  
  
“Okay, Luhan. I'm sorry for upsetting you. How about we look at this together? Firstly, okay. You have,” Jongin swallowed awkwardly, “telekinesis. Can you show me?”  
  
“No.”  
  
Jongin covered his face with his hands.  
  
“Well, I mean I can't show you right now,” Luhan clarified. “It seems that I can only do it at night. And only sometimes. I'm still trying to work out if it's to do with the day of the week, or the phases of the moon...” Luhan trailed off, silently mouthing other options and counting them on his fingers. Jongin sat down heavily on his chair.  
  
“Anyway, _you_ have an aura. You can't deny that.”  
  
“I do deny it, Luhan! I can't see the aura you're talking about. And,” Jongin couldn't go along with Luhan's claims any longer. “I hate to tell you this, but in my eyes you _don't_ have an aura. So then, logically, you don't have powers.”  
  
The bright afternoon gave way to the hushed tones of dusk. Jongin looked up at Luhan, now curled up hugging both his knees as he sat on the desk. It was like he was trying to inhabit as little space as possible in the world. Jongin acknowledged to himself that, in a way, Luhan did have an aura – the sun that streamed in through the unwashed classroom window behind him made a glowing halo around his small form.  
  
“Luhan?” Jongin said quietly. “Are you okay?”  
  
Luhan had his face hidden in his knees, but when he finally raised his head, his eyes were, thankfully, dry.  
  
“I'm okay. I guess I do need more sleep, or something. It's just that the dreams were so clear...” Luhan looked wistfully out at the sunset, his eyelashes casting shadows over his temples and cheekbones. Jongin thought he looked ethereal. Luhan began to whisper to himself, “Two suns that look alike... two worlds that seem alike...”  
  
“We could hang out tonight, if you want. Grab a coffee together?” Jongin didn't want to do anything of the sort, but it felt like the appropriate thing to say.  
  
“No, really. I'm okay. I think I'll just have a quiet night at home. Thanks for listening anyway, Jongin.” Luhan slid off the desk. He adjusted his satchel bag over his shoulder until it fit comfortably across his chest. “If you want any help with Chinese, you can ask me. Anytime.”  
  
“That's really nice of you to offer.”  
  
Luhan turned and walked towards the door of the classroom. At the doorway, he turned to look over his shoulder, waved politely, and left.  
  
Jongin listened to the footsteps echo in the corridor, waiting until they'd receded before taking out his phone. Bringing up the number pad, he pressed number two on his speed-dial. After three rings the line connected, and the male voice on the other end mumbled a greeting in Korean.  
  
“Sehun?” Jongin said in a low voice. “I think I found another one.”  
  
  
  
In the days that followed Jongin returned to his usual routine of classes, study, meals and sleep. Jongin and Luhan had become, not quite friends, but friendly enough. Sometimes Luhan would offer Jongin food after class, and sometimes Jongin would approach Luhan for translation of a particular word or colloquial phrase. Nothing more was said about auras or powers.  
  
Two weeks after their first run-in in the library, Jongin was in the middle of an _absolutely heavenly_ foot massage from a shop just off campus when he received a text.  
  
_I'm coming to Beijing on Saturday._  
  
Kris' message came as no surprise. Luhan was one of the twelve, a fact that had been confirmed when, the day before, Jongin actually _saw_ Luhan's aura during daylight hours. Luhan would be able to use his powers entirely at will soon, so he had to be brought into the fold and told about the mission they had all been deigned to carry out. But it seemed so _authoritarian_ to just let Kris always do the introductions for the Chinese members, and as the old lady applied more moisturiser to his calves, Jongin wondered if perhaps _he_ were actually better qualified in this case to approach Luhan. The two of them hadn't started on the best of terms, but this could be the perfect opportunity for the re-establishment of trust between them. Jongin slipped his sandals back on and smiled extra widely at the old lady as he handed over two red bank notes. Tonight, Jongin decided, the boy who dreamed of the sky and the ground as one would be welcomed _properly_.  
  
  
  
It was only a few minutes past midnight. Jongin sat on his bed as he laced up his ankle-length black boots over the cuffs of his black jeans. It felt like a formality of sorts – he didn't plan on doing much walking that night. Standing up, he turned to acknowledge the moonlit floor and the shadow his presence was creating. Then the shadow was gone, and so was Jongin.  
  
He landed in an apartment that was only slightly better lit than the room he'd just left, and his surroundings were illuminated by a white glow that seemed to originate just around the corner ahead. With a glance to the left, Jongin saw a small kitchenette, relatively clean except for a few dishes in the sink. A glance to his right revealed a bathroom with a tiled floor. The carpet hushed the sound of his footsteps as he walked towards the source of the light, and he wondered if he would find the apartment owner awake or asleep.  
  
Luhan lay on his bed, but he definitely wasn't asleep. Jongin stopped still just behind Luhan's line of sight, but in that moment, Jongin wasn't thinking about not being seen. He was only thinking about _seeing more_.  
  
The blonde boy was stretched out on the sheets of a twin bed, completely naked. A white glow - an aura - was visible around every curve and valley of his small, adult body. Luhan's left hand was pressing against the varnished headboard, while his right hand moved smoothly up and down his erection. Jongin watched silently as Luhan's hand moved to his scrotum, massaging it slowly with three fingers. Luhan's exhales turned into soft moans, and Jongin's breaths instinctively fell in sync with the boy, watching as he fell deeper into his own private state of bliss.  
  
Luhan turned his head away from Jongin and towards the window. Both of Luhan's hands remained where they were, but as if by magic, a small bottle floated up and began to squeeze its contents onto his groin. The bottle followed Luhan's eyes as it returned to the far side of the room and out of sight, and Luhan closed his eyes and resumed touching himself. He used one hand to pull at his nipples, while the other wrapped around his erection, sliding up and down with long, forceful motions. The sight of such a ravishing young man, ravishing himself, made Jongin's knees weak. Luhan's moans grew louder as he began to focus on stimulating the head of his penis. By instinct, his toes curled under. His head turned again to the window-side, then to the side where Jongin stood.  
  
Luhan stopped moving. He opened his eyes fully, focusing on the long fingers that were holding onto the corner of the wall. He was obviously startled, but he didn't scream. Then Luhan did something that seemed both innocent and defensive – he turned on his side to face the intruder, and, bringing his knees to his chest and his hands to his knees, curled himself into a ball.  
  
“Hello, Jongin. Did you want something?”  
  
Jongin took his hand off the wall and stepped back around the corner to hide himself fully. Not that it would do any good.  
  
“I can see your aura.” Luhan said in a bored tone.  
  
Jongin's heart was racing, and he wasn't even sure he could put one foot in front of the other. He could hear Luhan shuffling on the bed, but he couldn't hear him actually approaching. Jongin reminded himself of the job he was there to do, and after a few seconds, gathered enough confidence to step into the room.  
  
Luhan was sitting upright, a pillow at his back and a sheet tucked up around his waist. His hands were up close to his face, and he was wiping at the webbing between his fingers with a wet tissue. Jongin, observing him, was still too stunned to speak. When he finished cleaning his hands, Luhan scrunched the tissue into a ball and let go, but it didn't fall to the bed. With his eyes he directed the white ball to the far corner of the room, and Jongin watched as it made its way past him and into the bin.  
  
“Do I have an aura now, Jongin?”  
  
“Yes.” Jongin's voice came out higher than he'd wanted, but at least the syllable was clear enough. “Your aura appears when your powers are active. It usually takes the length of a lunar cycle for your powers to develop, then you can use them whenever you want.”  
  
Luhan stared at his hands lying folded in his lap. He nodded to acknowledge he'd heard what Jongin said.  
  
“Luhan,” Jongin tongue loosened as he went to sit down at the end of the bed. “You _are_ one of the twelve forces. Those dreams about the Tree of Life – they are part of your history, _our history_. Luhan, _please_ look at me.” Desperate for Luhan's understanding, Jongin leaned forward, his hands on top of the sheet that covered Luhan's outstretched legs. An apology was in his eyes and on his lips when, with only a second to register Luhan's smile, Jongin was enveloped by a bright glow and a warm body.  
  
“I'M SO HAPPY, JONGIN! I knew the dreams meant something. I was guessing you were just being careful and waiting to see if my powers were real.” Luhan hugged him tightly, pinning his arms to his sides so much so that Jongin thought he might lose his balance. Luhan pulled back, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
“I, err, yes. I was being careful. When you were just insisting that you had telekinesis, I thought you were crazy. But then when you gave more specifics about the Tree of Life, and after I'd had the chance to translate it all in my head, I realised you might actually be one of us. I _am_ sorry if I confused you.” Staring into Luhan's glittering eyes, Jongin wanted to apologize a thousand times over. He tore his eyes away to look down into his lap, but his lap happened to be covered by Luhan's lap, which was in fact _barely_ covered at all. He blushed and hastily looked up, his neck cracking loudly in the process. Luhan smiled kindly and rested his hand behind Jongin's right ear, forcing their gazes to meet again.  
  
“I know you never outright lied to me – that you had to be sure that I was really one of the twelve. I'm just glad that, after only a few weeks and _only_ with these underdeveloped powers, you've come to trust me.” Luhan began to run his thumb along Jongin's hairline at his neck, up to the concave space behind his ear, and back again.  
  
Jongin's eyelids fluttered, then closed. Luhan's touch felt so soft and his presence so warm. He had spent six long months alone with his books, alone in his own head, and he'd forgotten the comfort that could come from physical affection.  
  
Moving entirely on instinct, Jongin closed the space between them and kissed Luhan softly on the lips. The pressure of the kiss was so light, it was like pressing one's mouth against fresh-spun fairy floss. It felt good. It felt right. The spontaneous moment had passed, but as Jongin began to pull away, Luhan _began_ to kiss him back.  
  
Luhan shifted until he was sitting properly in Jongin's lap, his knees at either side of Jongin's narrow hips. Their shared, chaste kisses slowly became more urgent. Jongin felt Luhan's lips part as as he exhaled, and immediately Jongin inhaled the other's warm breath like it was pure oxygen. With just the tip of his tongue, Jongin licked tentatively at the moist underside of Luhan's top lip. It was all the encouragement Luhan needed to open his mouth so that Jongin could kiss him deeply.  
  
Jongin held Luhan steady, his finger tips curling around Luhan's upper arm and pressing into his triceps. When Jongin kissed him hard, his grip tightened too. When Luhan brushed against his lips, soft as a feather, Jongin's grip released. They moved in harmony, showing each other what they liked, and learning what the other liked. Then, from where he was kneeling, pressed against Jongin's clothed body, Luhan suddenly sat down hard on Jongin's lap.  
  
“Sorry,” Luhan said, sheepishly. “My thighs were kind of... burning.”  
  
Jongin smiled widely and placed a soft kiss to Luhan's forehead. He was about to make a comment about Luhan's otherwise impressive muscle tone, but was distracted by Luhan suddenly deciding to slide to the floor and stretch his legs out to the side in a wide 'V' shape. The bed sheet stayed on Jongin's lap.  
  
“Are you okay?” he questioned, twisting the sheet in his hands, ready to give to Luhan if he so desired.  
  
“Fine, just stretching.” Luhan flexed his feet, his toes almost touching the carpet below. “Maybe you can help me?”  
  
Jongin's eyes widened as Luhan leaned forward and with nimble fingers began to untie the laces of Jongin's boots.  
  
“I'll... I'll help you in any way I can,” Jongin murmured, unsure of where the conversation, and indeed, the night was going. Once the laces of both his boots had come undone, Luhan brought his legs in and curled his knees in to his chin. Jongin leaned down to remove his shoes, but Luhan held a hand up, clearly indicating that Jongin should stop.  
  
“I can move more than tissues, you know,” he said with a wicked grin. Next moment Jongin felt a tugging at his shoes by an invisible hand. Luhan directed Jongin's shoelaces to loosen, then one after the other, his boots slid over his heels and off the end of his toes, flying over to rest comfortably next to Luhan's desk. Before he could form a proper sentence, Jongin watched as Luhan telekinetically peeled his socks off, too.  
  
“Oh, you want to play _this_ game?” Jongin said, the mirth in his voice very evident. Luhan sat on the floor, glowing with mock innocence and looking like an angel that had simply curled its wings out of sight.  
  
Jongin teleported off the bed and reappeared directly behind Luhan, sitting with his legs outstretched just as Luhan's had been. Jongin snaked his hands around Luhan's small waist, letting them lazily trail up over his belly button, his abdominals, until his index fingers gently brushed against two erect nipples.  
  
Luhan gasped as Jongin pulled at the rigid flesh. He pulled his knees apart, his forearms resting on his kneecaps, but he kept his feet firmly on the floor. Luhan was giving Jongin access to his body, but he wasn't leaning back – he wasn't showing that he, in any way, needed him. Jongin leaned over Luhan, his body moulding against the smaller's, but Luhan still seemed wilful. Jongin decided to try to win this battle (before he won the war).  
  
Jongin slowed his ministrations until his fingertips were doing nothing more than lightly skimming the surface of Luhan's chest. Without warning, Jongin leaned forward and took the bottom of Luhan's left earlobe between his teeth, sucking hard at the piercing there, while his hands made a diamond shape around the furthest edges of Luhan's pubic hair. Luhan inclined his head back, and with little effort, Jongin ran his tongue from the attached earlobe, around the cartilage, to the top curve of the ear. Luhan cried out, like his body was directly pleading with Jongin. It was all desire, and it all went straight to Jongin's groin.  
  
Jongin nosed at Luhan's hair, drinking in the scent of milk and honey and something that was all _Luhan_. Closing his eyes, Jongin walked his fingers deeper into Luhan's coarse pubic hair, and when they found their prize, Luhan shifted his centre of balance back. Luhan was leaning into Jongin.  
  
Jongin practically purred with delight.  
  
With his thumb and middle finger, Jongin encircled the base of Luhan's penis, the pads of his fingers barely touching. The pressure on his groin made Luhan lean back further into Jongin, so for stability, Jongin wrapped his left arm tightly around Luhan's torso.  
  
“Wait,” Luhan breathed, and Jongin opened his eyes.  
  
The bottle of lubricant floated over to where they were seated on the floor. Jongin watched with satisfaction as it squeezed out a sweet-smelling gel onto his hand, unevenly coating Luhan's erection.  
  
“How useful you are,” Jongin murmured. He spread the gel over the dark skin and began to run his closed hand along the length of Luhan's penis. Luhan breathed heavily, his exhales causing the air to make a hissing sound as it passed between his tongue and teeth. Jongin's hand moved down and up, then when it reached the head he ran his palm over the slit, adding a little pressure. Jongin was as immersed in the experience as Luhan, the pleasure he gave was different, but equal to, the pleasure he was receiving.  
  
“Jongin. Bed.”  
  
Jongin wasn't going to object to that.  
  
Luhan stood up first, then offered his hand out to Jongin. From the floor, with the moonlight streaming in behind and Luhan's aura brighter than he'd ever seen before, Jongin thought once again that Luhan looked positively ethereal. This ethereal creature wanted _his_ company. Jongin took the assistance offered with his dry hand, then when he was standing upright, he bent down to kiss Luhan deeply.  
  
After a few moments of indulgence Luhan apparently began to want more than just Jongin's lips, and he broke the kiss to pull Jongin's black t-shirt up and over his head. His fingers then made quick work of the button and zipper on his black jeans, and he pulled them down to Jongin's ankles without ceremony. The enthusiasm and immediacy of Luhan's actions made Jongin smile, and he affectionately ran his gel-covered hand through Luhan's blonde locks.  
  
“Lie down, Luhan. I can undress myself.”  
  
Luhan backed away and moved to sit on the bed while Jongin pulled his jeans off, followed quickly by his underwear. It was Luhan's turn to be entranced. Jongin's erection was as perfectly sculpted as the rest of him, like it was made to be just long enough and just thick enough to satisfy, and fitted in exactly with his long, lean, muscular body.  
  
“Lie down,” Jongin said again, his tone more insistent. Luhan seemed to be unable to take his eyes off of Jongin's groin, but he did lie back on the white sheets as he'd been asked. Then, Jongin disappeared, re-appearing on his hands and knees, his naked body hovering over Luhan's.  
  
“Show off,” Luhan said, smiling like the cat that caught the canary.  
  
With a quick kiss to Luhan's lips, Jongin sat back on the smaller's thighs, bent his head, and held out his hands – just like he'd seen Chinese children do when they received red packets at New Year's. Luhan read his mind. Moments later, Jongin felt more gel collecting in the palm of this open hand.  
  
Jongin parted Luhan's legs then sat between them. He ran one slick finger from Luhan's scrotum to where his body met the bed, and as his finger passed by the tight, rosy entrance, Luhan's hand flew back to press against the headboard. Luhan bathed in the sensations of Jongin's delicate work, and Jongin committed to memory exactly how Luhan looked, stretched out on the bed, happy, and as dishevelled as an already undressed person could be.  
  
He pressed one finger in, nudging gently until the first knuckle was inside. It was as if Luhan's body was drawing him in. The muscles of his anus were so warm and so tight. Jongin gingerly pressed in further, watching Luhan's face for any sign of discomfort. There were none, and indeed, as Jongin's finger gradually disappeared inside Luhan's body, the smaller brought his knees up and closer in to his chest. Jongin was privileged to see the whole, beautiful view of Luhan's backside, and it looked good enough to eat.  
  
“Next time,” Jongin said breathily while gently wrangling a second lubricated finger inside Luhan. “Next time, I will have to taste _all_ of you,” and here, Jongin leaned down to leave a playful bite on Luhan's fleshy cheek. Luhan made a whining noise, and Jongin thought he could, in other circumstances, get off from that noise alone. As he came up, dragging his nose along the edge of his hand and along the lube-slick crevice, he felt something light hit him between the eyes. A blue wrapper sparkled in the moonlight.  
  
“Next time you can write a love poem to my ass. But, _right now_ , I need you to fuck me.”  
  
Jongin tore open the condom and gently rolled it down his length. The bottle of lubricant lay beside Luhan, and Jongin swiped it greedily to apply more gel. Without hesitation he aligned himself with Luhan's entrance and pushed his way in.  
  
“You're an angel with a dirty mouth, you know that?” Only too late did he realise that he'd revealed a weakness, but luckily Luhan seemed too lost in his own pleasure to pick up on any 'angel' references. As Jongin slowly slid further inside he concentrated on the feeling of Luhan's velvet heat tightening around him. Engulfing him. He put all his weight into his elbows, his fingers half covered as they burrowed under Luhan's pillow. When his pelvis was right up against Luhan's bottom, Jongin rested for a moment, appreciating the chance at being _this_ intimate with another living soul. A bead of sweat dropped from his hairline directly into the crevice of Luhan's collarbone below, and the next moment he buried his face in Luhan's neck.  
  
Luhan seemed to be embracing the moment, too. He was holding Jongin, one hand threaded through his dark hair and the other resting on the small dip of Jongin's lower back. Jongin could feel the press of Luhan's lungs against his rib cage, the beating of his heart under layers of skin, bone, and muscle. Then, Luhan adjusted his hips slightly, like he somehow, impossibly, wanted _more_.  
  
Jongin's hands moved from under the pillow to grasp Luhan's shoulders from behind, and he slowly moved his hips back until he was halfway out of Luhan's body. The friction was electric, and Jongin waited exactly half a second before driving right back in. Luhan's body moulded around him as he moved in and out in pursuit of more sexual pleasure, with Luhan himself superfluously guiding Jongin into his body by grasping at the fleshy curve of his backside. With a rhythm established, Jongin began to stretch out the seconds it took to pull out of Luhan, but would waste no time in burying himself again to the hilt inside Luhan's delicious wet heat. Grunts and pants and ragged breaths mixed with the scent of the lubricant and the weightless moonlight to fill every square metre of Luhan's small apartment.  
  
“Jongin, I want to...” Luhan could barely get the words out, but Jongin took a wild guess that the boy below him was feeling as close to the edge of pleasure as he was. Placing all his weight on his left arm, Jongin slowed his thrusts and reached down to grasp Luhan's erection. Jongin rocked with shallow movements inside Luhan, keeping the tension wrapped tight inside him while increasing the tension for Luhan. He ran his palm over the top of Luhan's penis once, twice, and when he pressed his hand down against Luhan's pelvis, Luhan fell apart. Jongin moved slowly, watching, imagining the fireworks going off behind the lids of Luhan's closed eyes. Luhan moaned, the sound low and deep and desperate, his face doing whatever was instinctive in the tides of orgasm. It brought Jongin to his own high. For the second time, Jongin buried his face in Luhan's neck and moved quickly in and out of Luhan's perfect body. His orgasm exploded inside him, sending waves of pleasure throughout his body. Time and space and sound were irrelevant, and all he wanted was to stay forever in this moment of violent bliss.  
  
  
  
Later that night, with Jongin's long legs tangled in the sheets and Luhan's limbs tangled around Jongin, Jongin whispered to Luhan in Korean. He described in artistic detail the planet they had come from, the Tree of Life and the powers of the Twelve Forces. Although he knew the other didn't understand much, Luhan's bright eyes and unwavering attention made for the perfect audience. Jongin switched back to Chinese.  
  
“One of our leaders will come to Beijing this weekend. He can explain things to you better than I can,” Jongin said, stroking the smooth line of Luhan's jaw.  
  
“But I like the way you explain things,” Luhan insisted, smiling. “I like the way you speak. I'm sure this leader won't be calling me an _angel_.”


End file.
